Game, Set And Match!
by Crawley-and-the-lady
Summary: Matthew takes a pregnant Mary to Wimbledon, tradition and toilet trips ensue! I got bored watching the tennis and this just happened - not to be taken too seriously!


_**I was watching Wimbledon, and this sort of just…happened! The information and stuff (players / scores etc) are taken from Wimbledon records for 1923 – and this is the year that it's set obviously! Enjoy! **_

"Darling, are you sure you're up to it? Because we don't have to go…" Matthew was loitering in the door step of Grantham house, watching Mary fasten her coat.

"Absolutely! Do you really think that I'm going to miss out because of this? We've had it planned for months" Mary gestured openly to the generous swell of her stomach, raising her eyebrows at her husband.

"Alright, sorry" Matthew sheepishly held his hands up in defeat "I was just making sure."

"Well you can '_make sure_' a little faster because we'll be late other wise!" She quipped bustling past him and out onto the busy London street.

Matthew huffed, following his wife into the motor which would take them to Church Road. He was thankful that the journey wasn't long, Grantham house being only a short distance from the stadium. He looked over at Mary, who was staring out of the window smiling to herself, fingers tapping on her purse in excitement. Matthew chuckled, "We're not even there yet and you can barely contain yourself!"

She shot him a reproachful look "I happen to thoroughly enjoy tennis Matthew."

"I know darling…" He added a teasing lit to his voice "Watching perspiring men run around in barley nothing, yes I can see how might appeal to you."

Mary looked at him sharply, a blush appearing at his suggestion. Watching his smile widen she scowled, her lips parting in silent chastisement. "You are incorrigible Matthew Crawley."

At this lent over to her, pressing a kiss to her temple and ignoring any feeble attempts at batting him away. Chucking again as he took one of her hands, lacing it with his for the rest of the journey.

On arriving they filed into the stadium with the general throng of people, Matthew leading the way, attempting to find their seats. Mary trailed behind, rubbing a hand over her stomach and wishing that Matthew would give her the tickets, convinced that she could find their seats far quicker. Squinting in the sun, she watched as he came to the end of one of the aisles up ahead, turning round he gestured to her indicating that he had found them. _Thank goodness_, she thought, although she did take the opportunity to admire the gentle sun playing on her husbands features, he was looking charmingly endearing and utterly edible in his new tweed suit and hat.

Matthew watched his wife sidle through the aisle, glad that they were sat at the end. He held the folding chair down for Mary and she sat in as much of a lady like manner that her condition would allow. They were obliged to engage in inane chit-chat with their neighbours, the seats around them starting to fill as the stadium buzzed with excited spectators.

Getting tired of polite small talk Mary hoped that the game would start soon, she did so enjoy watching the tennis. Wimbledon however was still part of the London season so unfortunately it was a social requirement for her, and her husband to greet their friends and acquaintances. After a few more minutes the players were announced on court and the crowd descended into a hush. Although it was the finals – the men's singles of course, she had suggested the woman's but Matthew being rather adorably uncomfortable with the idea and she'd relented. Mary was relatively unfamiliar with the players (both being foreign) but she had kept up with all the results in the paper and recognised their names. The game began and Mary was enthralled from the off, it was a tense opening set; and both players were battling hard.

Matthew watched on in amusement, cricket had always been more his cup of tea but it was lovely to see his wife so excited. He did enjoy tennis, just clearly not as much as Mary. Only once the first set was claimed did she lean back in her seat, having previously been hanging off of it in anticipation. He turned to face her with a grin "Enjoying the match darling?"

"Yes, I am very much so!" She replied airily.

"Who are you rooting for?"

"Well they're both American…" she said blithely, turning her head from the court to look at him "So neither, naturally!"

Matthew chuckled "Don't let your mother hear you!"

"Oh be quiet!" Mary chided affectionately "I rather favour the blond one…Johnson?"

"Yes, well he does have a good back-hand…" Matthew teased lightly, smiling adoringly at his wife.

"He does" His wife continued on, oblivious to his teasing. "Although serving doesn't seem to be his strongest suit, but he seems a lot quicker than -" It was only when she looked over to him that she caught his mocking tone and boyish grin "Are you making fun of me Matthew?"

"Never my darling!" He replied hastily, his face the mask of pure innocence.

Mary was about to reply when a voice announced for silence as the game was about to resume. So instead she subtly smacked his arm where it lead on the rest between them, Matthew took the opportunity to catch her hand and keep it within his own despite her best efforts to retrieve it. She sighed pointedly at her husband before turning her attention back to the game. It wasn't long before Mary was perched on the edge of her seat again eagerly, although the game commanded her full attention, the friction of Matthews fingers gently caressing her own became a pleasant distraction as the match wore on.

Once the initial excitement had abated Mary started to become a little restless, the chairs were becoming more uncomfortable by the minute. She shifted back in her seat moving, her free hand to her smooth over her stomach and attempting to alleviate some of the strain on her bladder. _Damn_ she thought, she sat up a little straighter and crossing her legs at the ankles.

Noticing her agitation Matthew lent over, still rubbing her hand "Are you alright darling?"

She smiled in response, but there was only a few points to be had until the next set was claimed and she did most definitely not want to miss anything. "I'm fine thank you"

Matthew reached over and kissed Mary's cheek daringly, receiving a smile and a raised eye-brow in return. Glancing at the time he could guess precisely the reason of his wife's discomfort; the last few weeks had taught him that a pregnant woman's bladder was almost as reliable as his pocket watch. After a few more minutes of tense playing Mary's foot was tapping and she was shifting constantly. When the applause struck up once again she swiftly stood, sending Matthew a tight smile he relented her hand. Heading straight for the restroom she meandered through the mill of spectators, most of which thankfully were still in their seats and reached the toilets. Passing a hand over her belly, she silently thanked god that there wasn't a queue.

Matthew took the lull in the game to do a little wandering of his own, and when Mary returned he was sat ready and waiting with a bowl of strawberry's and cream. 'As per tradition' he informed her.

"Honestly, you look like the cat who got the cream – as it very much were!" She chuckled at her own joke, snaking a hand down his arm to retrieve some of the fresh fruit.

Without braking eye contact he raised his eyebrows in challenge and moved the bowl from her reach "Oh, well if you don't want any…"

"Now, I never said that did I?" She teased sternly, rolling a strawberry in some cream and bringing it to her lips and sucking before biting into it.

Matthew watched, transfixed on Mary's lips and teasing gaze as she rid the fruit of any traces of cream.

"Mmm, delicious!" On seeing Matthew open his mouth to reply she simply put her finger to her lips and shushed him as the announcer informed them that play would once again resume. Mary turned her attention back to the game, although she was significantly less interested in the outcome and far more interested her husbands exploring touches of her hand where it lay between them. His fingertips playing over her knuckles, straying to the delicate underside of her wrist, brushing the inside of her palm. She shot Matthew a reproachful look internally hoping that he would cease his tender assault, but earning only a triumphant smile from him in return. Mary roller her eyes and tried to concentrate on the constant rally back and forth, the fast footwork of the players and the sound of ball on racket.

Matthew was deciding that he did quite like tennis after all. He continued his secret caresses throughout the remainder of the game, revelling in his wife's apparent distraction. It wasn't too long until it was announced that Johnson defeated Hunter 6-0, 6-3, 6-1 and the crowd started to disperse. Mary and Matthew hung back waiting for most of the people to clear before attempting to leave, hands still toying between each other as they slowly made their way to the motor casting secret glances back and forth.

When they were on their way back to Grantham house Mary turned to Matthew.

"I think you should try your hand at a sport…" She suggested with a barely contained smirk.

Gathering her meaning, he replied laughing in disbelief "Really Mary? I am to take it that you want me to play tennis?"

Schooling her features into a serious expression "Don't you think it would do you good to have a new challenge? Especially when this one comes along" She moved their still entwined hands to sit on the swell of her stomach.

Matthew scooted closer "Hmm, you're not challenge enough then my darling?" He teased, stroking his thumb over her belly.

Mary scoffed in disbelief, pinching the back of his hand.

"Ouch! You just want to see me in a pair of those white shorts don't you?"

"Oh, you see right through me Mr Crawley!" Mary chuckled, her eyes sparkling.

"Well darling, if I'm to try my hand at tennis I think it's only right that _you_ should too"

"Absolutely not Matthew!"

"Well, if you can't play…"

"Of course I could! –"

"I'm afraid my darling, that I just _don't_ believe you, you're going to have to prove me wrong!"

Mary raised her eyebrows, leaning in and brushing her lips tantalisingly against Matthew's collar "Challenge accepted Mr Crawley."

Matthew made a low noise of appreciation, moving his lips to cover hers gently. He chuckled, breaking the kiss.

"What?" Mary asked, eyeing him curiously.

"You taste like strawberry's and cream!" He said as if it was the most amazing thing in the world.

She smiled back at him adoringly, then kissing her way from his neck to his ear she whispered "Game, set and match darling!"

_**Short, but hopefully sweet! Thanks for reading, let me know what you think if you have the time, cheers again! :) **_


End file.
